


Shattered

by Denise



Category: Stargate SG-1
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-14
Updated: 2012-07-14
Packaged: 2017-11-09 23:04:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 821
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/459475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Denise/pseuds/Denise
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Narim's life is shattered</p>
            </blockquote>





	Shattered

* * *

Disclaimer Stargate Sg-1 and its characters are the property of Stargate (II) Productions, Showtime/Viacom, MGM/UA, Double Secret Productions, and Gekko Productions. This story is for entertainment purposes only and no money exchanged hands. No copyright infringement is intended. The original characters, situations, and story are the property of the author. This story may not be posted elsewhere without the consent of the author.

* * *

  
The ragged figure staggered through the shattered wreckage that once was his home. A thin cloud of smoke filled the air and his nostrils with the bitter scent of ozone, sulfur, smoke and death. Just like before. 

So fast, it had happened so fast. Just a couple of weeks ago things had been fine. He and Omoc had dinner twice a week taking turns discussing politics and their duties.

But Omoc was gone, not just gone, murdered by the Curia. His life ended by the same governing body that was supposed to protect him. He cringed at the memory of the funeral, the sheer hypocrisy of Travele honoring the life of the man whom she'd betrayed. Her act shattering a lifetime of trust.

Was she still alive? He didn't know. She could be. Or she could be among the dead. There were so many dead.

He could hear their screams, their agonized screams, some lasting forever while others ended so abruptly, so horribly abruptly.

But worse than that were the moans. The quiet, heart-rending pleading moans of survivors, begging for help, crying for water, appealing to gods many professed not to believe in for mercy.

Those sounds resonated through him worse than the explosions that still occasionally rocked the ground; some punctuated with the delicate tinkle of shattering glass.

The goa'uld were gone now, their mission accomplished. They hadn't even deigned to sully themselves by setting foot on Tollana; they had rained down destruction from the sterility of space.

He knew there were other survivors. He'd seen them, shocked souls staggering through the devastation, their faces empty and desolate, smeared with soot and blood. They looked so lost, their lives and maybe minds shattered. Someone should help them. But there was so much to do. So many to help. So many fires. Tollana was ablaze. Just like before. 

Their technology hadn't been able to help them then either. All their efforts to save their planet had been as impotent as their ion blasts at the ships.

And just like last time he'd been left behind to witness the destruction.

He made his way into his home, struggling to push the heavy door aside. It was here. It had to be here. It was all he had left.

He crossed to the table, tripping over debris and support beams that had fallen. He was luckier than most it seemed; his home hadn't suffered a direct strike. There. He fell to his knees pulling aside the debris to reveal the interface. The crystal was shattered; it's normally smooth surface covered in fine lines, like an arachnid's web. Please let it still be operational.

He sat back on the bench, the interface heavy on his lap. Had it just been hours since he'd sat here last? So much had changed. His world had changed, his world had ended.

What could he do? He didn't know what to do.

He reached out with trembling grubby fingers and touched the screen; his heart soaring as it sprang shakily to life. "A…audio interface on," he said, his voice shockingly loud in the deadly silence.

_"Good evening Narim. Warning. This structure is unstable. You must evacuate and I will report this to the Housing Bureau."_

"No…no there is no need."

_"There is no response from the Housing Bureau. In fact all communications systems appear to be inoperative."_

"Stop all attempts at communication," he said, his hand caressing the cracked frame of the interface.

 _"As you wish. Would you like me to prepare an evening meal? The food processor is not operational, however there are cold items in the refrigeration unit. It is also not functioning. If you do not consume the food soon it will spoil,"_ the voice advised helpfully.

"No...I…I require information," he said, staring at the screen, it's dim illumination filling the wrecked room with light, dispelling the wavering shadows created by the flames outside.

_"Please state your search parameters. Access to the Tollan Central Archive is not available at the present time."_

"Tell me…tell me what to do? Where do I start?"

_"Unable to comply. Please restate your inquiry."_

"Samantha, my shermahl, please, please tell me where to start."

_"I am unable to comply. Please limit your search parameters and restate your inquiry."_

"Tollana rose from the ashes before. Help me," he begged of the soulless box on his lap, tears cutting tracks through the dirt and blood on his face. "Help me. I don't know what to do."

_"I am unable to comply…"_

~Fin~


End file.
